Learning to fly
by NRGburst
Summary: Bridging the gap between Defenders of Berk and HTTYD2. Final chapter will be rated M, the rest are T. Minor spoilers for HTTYD2 if you squint. (Hiccstrid)
1. Learning to fly

_Just loved the easy intimacy between Astrid and Hiccup in that clip from HTTYD2, so I thought I'd write a little lemon/fluff since the relationshippy stuff that got them to that point hasn't been shown onscreen. In fact they seem to be frustratingly stalled in terms of relationship development on the TV series, so here is my attempt to fill in the blanks. _

_I've done my best to be canon compliant to the movies (including shorts and deleted scenes) and TV series, but drop me a line if you spot something I missed._

* * *

Astrid had always thought she'd end up with a brawny alpha male with bulging muscles and more bluster than brains, if only by default. Scratching out a living was tough on a windy island like Berk, so its people had to be even tougher. She's always been small and slim but she's parlayed that seeming disadvantage into speed and agility. Constant training and sheer determination make up for the rest- she'd helped kill a boar from thirty paces at the tender age of seven, and she was always Snotlout's main competition at Thawfest. (He always won anyway- the strength based events and his dad's pull with the judges pretty much ensure that.) Still, even he doesn't dispute that she's the champion in the fighting arena- superior technique and ruthlessness means she's disarmed and pinned the lot of them consistently since they were kids, even if they outweigh and outreach her.

So it still surprises her to realize how drawn she is to thin and thoughtful Hiccup, who is nothing like the rest of them except for a wide stubborn streak. He still lacks the physical prowess of a typical Viking, although growth spurts and hours of riding Toothless have made him tall and fit in ways that make her heart skip faster. But he's made his creativity and sensitivity valuable in a place where might has always been right; shown that strength is not the only way to get things done, whether it's defending Berk, making the most of its meager resources, or settling disputes. He's really come into his own, and hitting her own growth spurt is making it harder to ignore those feelings of attraction.

She just wishes he would be a little more... assertive sometimes. She's always the one initiating kisses, and it's starting to make her wonder. Is he being his typical respectful self or does he simply _not _want her the same way she wants him? She's sure they're friends- he often seeks out her company whether it's for an official village mission or just to hang out. And his reactions have always seemed to indicate that he's interested. But the way he made an awkward quip and pulled back after she planted a kiss on him last night has left her reeling a bit.

So she's avoiding him and the gang to stew over it while she cleans her room. Beating out dust and scrubbing helps vent her frustration, and since their place hasn't burnt down for the last couple of years, stuff has been piling up. But her thoughts keep circling unhappily. What if he's over that childhood crush and she's been forcing herself on him, as oblivious as Snotlout?

They've never actually talked about the whole kissing thing- she grimaces just thinking about how awkward it would be. She wishes rather keenly that her mother were still alive- it's not the sort of thing she feels comfortable asking Dad about, and any of their friends would be rather short on sensitive advice and rather long on sniggers.

A knock on the shutters startles her out of her thoughts, and she gulps and carefully blanks her face.

"It's open!" she shouts.

Hiccup and Toothless poke their heads in and she attempts a smile before turning back to tuck in the covers. It hurts just to look at him after the bruising train of thoughts she's been on.

"Hey- we missed you today. Was worried you were sick."

"Nope, just doing some spring cleaning. It's been way too long. Some of those dust bunnies were threatening to take over."

He looks around. The place smells of soap and the floorboards –normally covered with discarded clothing, saddles and books on dragons- have been cleared and scrubbed bone white. But she's refusing to meet his eye even if her explanation sounds plausible.

"…Is something wrong?" he ventures.

She stops and shrugs stiffly. Curse his stupid sensitivity. "…I don't know. Maybe."

"…Need a friend to help you figure it out?"

She flinches, unsure. But when she turns to look at him his green eyes are full of concern and he's smiling encouragingly.

Hoffersons fear nothing. Not even rejection.

So she takes a deep breath and plows on ahead despite the color she can feel rushing into her cheeks. "You know what? Maybe you're just the person I need to talk to."

He gives her a curious look, nods and dismounts smoothly before jerking his head at Toothless, who departs with a leap.

Hugging herself, she sits down on the bed and takes a deep breath. "See, I have this friend. And… I really like him. But lately I've been getting the feeling that… that maybe I like him more than he likes me. And I don't want to _force_ him to like me. But he never makes a move even when we're… close. So I guess I just want to figure out where we stand because I thought he felt the same way. And I want to be friends even if we're not, you know_, friends_."

He flushes and scrubs at the back of his neck before gingerly sitting next to her.

"Have you… perhaps, threatened guys with, I don't know, bodily dismemberment for ah, touching you without permission?"

"What? You're supposed to be smart! I've kissed you a bunch of times now- how much clearer do I have to be? And last night you were just- _Oh wow, look at the time! Toothless must be getting hungry!_"

At least he's as red as she is. "Well, as somebody who has never come close to beating you in combat and is notably, already down a limb, I thought keeping my hands to myself _was_ smart. And let me tell you: no small feat because I was feeling pretty… excited."

She huffs and tosses her head, mollified despite the mortification.

"Well…okay then."

"Yeah?" He glances at her.

"Yeah, fine," she snaps, and he winces.

"Okay, but…why didn't you just _tell_ me? You're not usually shy about saying what you want and, you know, I don't really have any experience at this sort of thing. You? You've always been the prettiest girl on the island."

She brushes her hair back, flustered. "I don't know, okay? I guess…I'm used to beating back guys, since they don't actually_ listen_ to me unless my fist is backing it up." She looks at him and shrugs awkwardly. "You can touch or kiss me if you want, okay? If I don't like what you're doing I'll tell you to stop."

He tilts his head, raising hs eyebrows reflectively. "Or… throw a punch."

She gives him a withering look but her lips twitch and a laugh bubbles out.

"Well what do you expect if you're being a moron?" She bumps her shoulder to his, relieved that the tension seems to be dissolving. "I'll try to reserve the punches for emergencies."

He nods. "Fair enough. I'll work on making moves on girls."

That gets an instant reaction. "_Girls_?"

"No, I mean _a _girl! You. Gods, what is wrong with me? I'm hopeless at this!" he groans.

She grabs his hand, eyes blazing. "Hey! You stop that, Hiccup! You know, not a day goes by that I don't think you're amazing. Not one."

He shifts closer, blushing. But there's a kind of intensity in the way he's looking at her that makes her breath hitch with anticipation. "Well… " he says, "just so you know- the feeling is totally mutual."

And when he pulls her close and kisses her, she's not the only one who feels utterly triumphant.


	2. Into the Open Air

Into the Open Air

They decide to keep their fledgling romance a secret, keeping all public interaction studiously casual. Village gossip in a place as small as Berk is a lot like Speed Stingers- a pest that quickly overtakes the entire population, paralyzing their ability to talk about anything else. That kiss she'd so brashly given him after he'd survived beating the Red Death had come up for months, and they both want to avoid the pressure of nosy questions and constant teasing this time. This new territory they're venturing into feels both precious and precarious, and it's so much easier to explore in private.

Luckily, it's easy enough to get away on dragonback, and the summer sun lingers until evening so they can steal an hour or two without raising any suspicions. If she comes back home with fresh flowers for the table or with a new bracelet of seashells clinking around her wrist, her father assumes she's just been out enjoying the bounty of the season. Likewise, Stoick chalks up Hiccup's buoyant mood to the extra inches the boy has finally put on. Hiccup doesn't disabuse him of the notion- he's not keen on getting The Father-Son Talk On Girls.

Still, it's hard not to slip up occasionally- smiling a bit too warmly when their eyes meet or making some inside joke in front of the others without thinking. And they quickly realize that their friends really aren't that observant- getting Snotlout and the twins to pay attention to anything that isn't an explosion or food item usually requires considerable effort anyway, and it soon becomes apparent that Fishlegs is far more attuned to dragon mating habits than noting that the two of them constantly choose to sit together at meals, or that they head off in the same direction once work is done for the day.

So Hiccup starts putting them into a team on their own more often. He usually has Astrid lead the other team if he splits their group into two- a single crack of her knuckles works as effectively as a plasma blast from Toothless. But he tells himself that they're all old enough to take responsibility for themselves. And there are benefits to working with Astrid besides being able to hang out all day: they work so efficiently together that they usually finish early, gaining another hour or two of private time.

Niggling feelings of guilt are squashed under the easy banter as they work; the sparks of fun and anticipation when they sneak off, and that steadily growing fire of reciprocated feelings. So for a few weeks, the change in their relationship develops in a blissful little bubble.

* * *

It's the extra stress on Meatlug that Fishlegs notices first.

It's not that he dislikes working with Snotlout and the twins- the insults and bickering are just background noises they're all accustomed to, and they're way more fun (and funny) than Hiccup and Astrid. But it's hard to get stuff done without all of them pitching in, and no matter how he nags and pleads, at least one of them always ends up goofing off or doing something counterproductive, forcing him and Meatlug to work all the harder. His dragon is too sweet natured to bully the others into doing their fair share, and he's just not a confrontational kind of guy. So they've ended up working a lot of overtime recently just to finish up what their group is assigned.

"Wow- it looks like you're losing weight, sweetie. I can't believe I just had to adjust the saddle down a whole notch. That can't be healthy- you'll be laying another clutch in just a few months! We'll head to the quarry and get you a big pile of really tasty rocks tonight, okay?" he fusses, caressing her bumpy head. She looks at him adoringly and sighs happily, tongue lolling, but Fishlegs continues to frown.

Come to think of it, he's ended up on teams with them an awful lot lately. It's a bit unfair- a more equitable distribution of dragon resources today would surely have been Stormfly on this team, and Barf and Belch with Toothless. Hiccup must be slipping- he's actually done that a lot recently.

"Let's go let him know, okay girl? Maybe he's thinking of strength stats, but since the decorations were more finicky than heavy, the differences would have been negligible."

She crouches and he clambers up, waiting until she gives a little shimmy of her wings to show that she's ready for flight.

"Let's start in the village square. They might still be there."

But once they arrive, it's obvious that work is complete- all the Midsummer Fest streamers and banners are up, fluttering gaily in the wind. He gives Meatlug an affectionate pat.

"Think you can track down Toothless, girl? I want to talk to Hiccup before he makes the assignments for tomorrow."

Eager to please, she sniffs the air in a broad circle before heading confidently towards Raven Point.

He's relieved it's a short flight over forests and streams and not a jaunt to some faraway unknown island: Hiccup has a thing for exploring and Meatlug doesn't have the same kind of range Toothless does, plus they need to get to the quarry. He spots Toothless and Stormfly first, gambolling about in some kind of valley with a largish pond.

"That's odd. What are they doing there when they could be back home feeding?"

He catches sight of a brightly coloured blanket through the trees and steers Meatlug down towards it- only to gasp when he spots the two kissing on top of it.

He's too busy boggling to remember to tell Meatlug to slow down, and they crash rather spectacularly, bringing down a hail of needles and pinecones upon impact.

Astrid flips Hiccup off of her at the sound, assuming a defensive position, panting and wide eyed.

"Owwww! Geez, Astrid!"

"Sorry, but- Fishlegs! Gods- what are you _doing_ here?" she demands, hastily checking her clothing, cheeks flaming.

Stormfly and Toothless come running over, warbling curiously. Meatlug blinks, unperturbed as she rolls herself upright and waddles back away from the tree she'd hit- Gronkles are tough. Toothless gives Hiccup a nudge as he sits up, grimacing, and gets a reassuring pat. Satisfied, he goes back to the game he was playing with Stormfly, dragging some tree branch on the ground.

Fishlegs dusts himself off and checks Meatlug for injuries, red-faced and scrambling. "Www-well if I'd _known_ about you two I wouldn't have come at all!" he stammers. "But I needed to talk to Hiccup about our assignments lately and, and- I guess this is why you've been sticking me with the others? So you two can finish early and, and- sssuck face while the rest of us are stuck working?"

Hiccup winces, and Astrid looks abashed and looks away.

"Well… _tech_nically it was the same number of decorations per dragon, so we weren't _guaranteed_ to finish early…" Hiccup offers feebly.

"That's not actually fair and you know it! Did you know that Meatlug has been losing weight with how overworked she's been? How would _you_ like making up extra work all the time because half _your_ team was setting stuff on fire for kicks? Or, or making booby traps out of decorations instead of putting them up?"

"All they need are some firm directions and-"

"-From who? I'm not supposed to be team leader, Hiccup! Last I checked, that's _you._"

That strikes a nerve. "What, so you're saying that you're completely incapable of working in a team if I'm not there? Really? What are we, twelve again?"

"Well-" Fishlegs is at a loss for a moment before his face goes stubborn, "You're supposed to be more responsible! You _are_ the son of the Chief after all."

Hiccup rolls his eyes and throws up his hands. "Well, it's a good thing I lobbied so hard for the position."

"Hiccup," Astrid admonishes.

He looks at her and sighs. "Fine, _fine_. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know it would be so hard on you and Meatlug. It won't happen again. Without good reason," he adds quickly.

Fishlegs nods stiffly, chins quivering. "Okay. That- sounds fair." He shrugs. "I guess it's hard having to be leader all the time, too. You know, I can help balancing out stats for teams if you let me know what the Chief wants us to do. I know it's not much…"

Hiccup nods and gives him a reassuring smile. "Thanks. I'm always glad to have your expertise."

That perks him up and the bigger boy nods and smiles more confidently before he mounts Meatlug again. But there's an awkward silence once he's back in the saddle.

Hiccup gestures hesitantly. "Could you…I mean, would you mind keeping our…"

Fishlegs shrugs uncomfortably. "Who would I tell anyway? What I don't get is why you guys are sneaking around. We all expected it- she kissed you in front of the whole village a couple years ago."

He immediately regrets adding that last bit. Astrid straightens, making a noise like a frustrated teakettle, and balls her hands into fists.

"What?! Why. Does. Everybody. Keep-" she bites out.

Hiccup's eyes widen with alarm and he quickly places a hand on her knee. That averts the impending explosion- she looks at him, exhales and subsides. "He'd just almost _died, _okay? I was upset and I wasn't… You know, the Chief didn't get half as much flak for crying in front of everyone," she grumbles.

Fishlegs smiles weakly, still cringing. "Uh…right. Okay. Well, anyway, I got that off my chest, so uh, I'll just let you get back to what you were… We really need to get to the… okay, bye."

Astrid pulls away and they sit awkwardly apart after Fishlegs and Meatlug make a hasty departure.

"So…that was pleasant," Hiccup says dryly.

"Ugh, I can't believe he came looking for you," she groans. "When has that ever happened?"

"Never. He must have been really upset," Hiccup admits.

She looks at him and sighs. "I guess that's the end of working together just the two of us."

"Well… it's not like we can't still hang out together after." He shifts closer, tilting his head reflectively. "You know- maybe he's right. Maybe it won't be a big deal. And… I'd be really proud to, say, be your date to the Fest..."

She turns and smiles, flushing prettily before she bumps her shoulder to his. "Well, I guess that sounds alright."

"If memory serves, it'll be a fine evening of mead and mutton chops accompanied by music, axe-throwing, dancing, aaaand probably one of our friends throwing up and/or getting hauled off by my dad."

She chuckles. "Can't wait."

"Great. I'll pick you up around seven."

She smiles and rests her head against his shoulder, gently poking him in the chest. "Well, that was pretty smooth, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third."

He quirks his eyebrows before he grins and slides his arm around her again. "Yeeeahh, I've been working on it…

She's laughing when he kisses her again, and it turns out that resuming where they left off isn't awkward at all.

* * *

They don't see each other much the next day- the whole village is busy getting the feast ready and booths and tables set up. Berk has had another record-breaking, prosperous year, and the Fest has expanded accordingly- more people means more food, more musicians, and most importantly: more mead. They are all up early, and even lunch is eaten on the go. Hiccup gets conscripted into helping Gobber solder together last minute pens for the baby dragons (since everybody will be too drunk to put out unexpected fires) and he only spots Astrid through the crowd, moving platters of marinated chops and vats of smoked salmon with the others.

It feels odd not to have her or Toothless there to blow off steam with, and a ball of nervous anticipation has settled in his gut. He wonders how his dad will react- gods, he wonders how _her _dad will react.

But working iron and then coaxing the babies into their new accommodation eats up the day, and before he knows it he's hurrying through giving Toothless his dinner and himself a quick wash and change.

Toothless eyes him skeptically as he fiddles with his damp hair, trying to make it look cooler somehow.

"Yeah, yeah- we can't all be as naturally handsome as you, bud. What do you think?"

Toothless blinks, sits back and burps.

"Very encouraging." He sighs, giving himself a wan smile in the mirror before taking a deep breath.

"Well. Wish me luck."

Toothless gives him a nudge out the door and a bright bark/growl, and Hiccup grins and gives him a pat, feeling slightly more confident.

Astrid's house is just a short walk away, and he can feel his cheeks color as he walks up the steps. He knocks, bracing himself for that awkward conversation with her dad.

He's pleasantly surprised when the door opens.

She's done her hair different, weaving flowers into her braid, and she's wearing a new dress that makes her eyes seem an even brighter blue.

"Hey." Her cheeks are rosy and she seems a little nervous too.

"Hi. You look…wow."

She beams. "Thanks- took forever to do the hair. My dad's already left to host the axe throwing, so I told him we might drop by."

He gulps. "Oh. He'll be armed. Perfect."

"Hiccup! It's just my dad. Can we go? I'm starving."

He takes a deep breath and offers his arm. "Well, milady, this way for Midsummer Fest."

There are a few murmurs as they walk toward the square with her holding onto his arm, but Fishlegs was right: it's not the big deal it was a couple years ago- or maybe they're just not as sensitive. In fact everybody seems almost…proud. The brewer waves away Hiccup's payment, beaming, planting two mugs in front of them without asking; the butcher's wife winks and fills their platters with choice cuts. They find seats easily too- Bucket and Mulch almost trip in their eagerness to scoot down the table to offer them room.

They both glance around, noting the knowing smiles and whispers before wryly looking back at each other.

She tries to be positive. "At least they're giving us space, I guess."

But it's awkward trying to think of what to say, knowing there are so many eyes on them.

That is, until Snotlout clouts Hiccup in the shoulder a second later.

"Hey loverboy, heard you had a- _Astrid_?"

Tuffnut and Ruffnut are right behind him.

"Whooooa, weeeeird. You look totally like a girl like that," Ruffnut says, studying Astrid with a look of baffled awe. She touches a dress sleeve experimentally.

Astrid shoves her hand away and growls. "Do you _mind_? We're kind of on a date here."

"Why? You might have to like, kiss Hiccup at the end of it." Tuffnut says.

Hiccup gives him and Snotlout annoyed looks. "Pretty sure she's aware of that."

Their dumbfounded looks are priceless, if not really worth the sheer annoyance. But the twins seem to accept the news without any further explanation.

"Oh. Okay then. Come on guys- we're harshing the vibe." Tuff says.

"And we still haven't found an unguarded keg. Later," Ruff says, tugging on Snotlout's vest to drag him along, since he's still standing with his mouth agape.

Hiccup and Astrid watch them disappear back into the crowd before turning to look at each other in disbelief.

They can't help it. They both start laughing.

After that it's easier to just relax and hang out like they normally do, even if it's slightly nerve-wracking greeting her dad as he casually hands out axes, and hard not to feel self conscious when she cajoles him into dancing. But they both have fun- Astrid places admirably when she takes a turn at axe throwing, and Hiccup discovers how easy it is to spin on his new leg on the dance floor, to their mutual delight. He can't help grinning when he spots his dad watching them whoop and turn, and he gets a proud smile and nod.

Walking her home after, they're both pleasantly tired and talking easily, and it feels pretty darn good to hold hands.

And if there are witnesses when they kiss goodnight on her front step, neither of them care anymore.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay- I tried so, so hard to get this done before HTTYD2 released but jetlag and responsibilities made that impossible. Gah. Staying up late to edit now hoping many of you are like me and need to wait till cheap Tuesday to watch! LOL_

_I really wanted to capture that sweet thrill of __first__ love, in all its awkward teenage glory. I__'__ve also been wondering about a couple things- why they would take a bunch of steps back from a few kisses in canon, plus this whole __"__thrust into leadership__"__ plot that HTTYD2 seems to be about. So this chapter was born._

_Reviews and concrit are always appreciated~_


	3. Dark Horse

She's a warrior; he's a peacemaker. And good relationships are symbiotic.

Or the Tale of How Hiccup became The Pride of Berk.

* * *

The end of childhood is a lot less glamorous than the gang had imagined. Sure, _technically_ they can do whatever they want once they are officially adults. But being expected to take full responsibility for themselves is rather daunting, even if they've been taking steps toward it their whole lives.

The Jorgensons are particularly set on getting Snotlout to help out in the family business of shipbuilding and fishing- Hookfang weighs (and eats) the most of all their dragons, and his strength and size is a huge asset in the shipyard. It's all very well having a prestigiously fearsome dragon as a pet, but even better when he helps earn his own keep.

The Ingermans likewise have been keeping Fishlegs and Meatlug busier in the woodlot or pulp mill, while the Thorstons have been slowly getting Barf and Belch used to herding sheep without setting them on fire and the twins processing wool into homespun. Ruff and Tuff take better to the business than anybody had anticipated- they actually have a good eye for color and design, and the noise of the looms clacking is something they both enjoy immensely.

Astrid also takes the transition in stride- she's been collecting fresh herbs and produce from other islands to sell at the marketplace for months to help out at home. They're such a welcome change from Berk's tough and tasteless fare that she gets good prices, and they're easy enough to procure on dragonback. Becoming an adult just means that she saddles up Stomfly with more baskets and spends more time foraging than hanging out with the others.

Hiccup's skills are also very marketable, to his father's delight (and his own chagrin). Since dragon riding paraphernalia and dragon training lessons are growing in demand on Berk, he's been spending more time in the Forge constructing saddles and familiarizing new immigrants to the local pets in the Hanger. Toothless is allowed to hang around, but he starts spending more time with the other dragons rather than curled up while Hiccup works.

They all look forward to rides and rest days, when they can escape the new responsibilities and finally have a bit of fun.

Passing on the Dragon Training Academy to Gustav and his friends feels a bit sad- it's the end of an era. Their final lessons are serious and sobering and not even about dragons: the Chief himself teaches them to shoot burning arrows with longbows so they can help send off the dead.

But there are certain benefits to growing up as well, one of which Astrid has been striving towards her entire life.

* * *

Hiccup can't believe what he's hearing, and he sets down his tools before facing her. "You want to _what_?"

Astrid sits on the worktable, picking up a stirrup to admire the craftsmanship. "I want to represent the Hairy Hooligans at the All Viking Tournament next spring. I can now that I'm of age. My uncle was the last champion from Berk, and that was fourteen years ago. The prizes for even _fifth _place would set me and Stormfly up for the next few years, and my dad's been wanting to get the roof redone. I think I stand a good shot, especially if we could convince your dad to help me train. How awesome would it be just to make Winner's Circle?"

"Yeah but-" he gestures wildly, baffled. "How about the chance of, you know, _horrific__ maiming and death_? Most -if not all- competitors come out with injuries. It's… barbaric!"

She looks up at him, irked. "Well, we're _Vikings_. So I get a scar or two. It's not like I have no battle experience. Besides, it's all blunted weapons."

"Yeah, but you've always had dragon backup in a real fight. And blunted edges still do a lot of damage, especially if the typical, you know, Godrick the Giant types have got their weight behind them. Don't tell me your dad approves."

Astrid juts out her chin stubbornly, glaring. "I'm an adult now and I make my own decisions. I've been training for this my whole life, Hiccup, and I've got the entire winter to get into top shape. This is one of the things I'm really good at- you know that." Her eyes are reproachful. "I thought you'd be supportive."

"Supportive. Of my girlfriend possibly losing a limb. Or eye. Or both."

"Oh come on, that eye thing was a freak accident! Who would've guessed that sword would shatter like that? Besides, I know a guy who can fix me up a decent peg leg."

Hiccup shakes his head, reeling, and gestures at his leg. "You think this is _funny_?"

She gives him an outraged look. "I _think_- that it's not a big deal! That the payoff is worth the risk! I have what- maybe five years to put my name out there before I'll be having babies?" She slides off the table and stalks toward the door before turning back. "Not all of us have the luxury of making a good living even in bad weather. Or having titles just waiting for us to grow into."

"Astrid!"

But she's already gone.

* * *

As usual, Toothless is eager for a ride after his shift is done. But this afternoon Hiccup rides rather recklessly, as through the wind screaming past his ears and numbing his hands will tear his frustrations away. Eventually, Toothless complains about the relentless pace and Hiccup is immediately contrite, pulling him into a more sedate glide.

"I'm sorry, bud. I shouldn't be taking this out on you. It's just- she's just- insane! Why would anybody purposely wade into an arena with a bunch of violent goons with weapons? For a few gold medallions and a bit of renown? She's just such a- Viking sometimes!"

Toothless eyes him and rumbles reassuringly.

"…I know she'll probably survive. Doesn't make it any easier to stand by and watch giant Vikings hacking at her. Aw, maybe I can talk her out of it once she calms down."

Toothless mutters, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine. Once we _both_ calm down. Happy?"

He spends more time in Toothless' sympathetic presence once they're back- giving him a good scratch and wash and watching as Toothless eats his fill at the feeding station they recently put up. He's feeling a lot better by the time they go home.

But he stops short when he opens the door and sees Astrid sitting across from his Dad in the front room. They fall silent and she gives him a guilty look.

Toothless pokes his head in, rolls his eyes and slinks back out again.

Wishing he could turn tail like his dragon, Hiccup enters warily. "Why do I get the feeling you guys were just talking about me?"

Stoick ignores the question. "Astrid was just telling me her goal to represent Berk at the next Tournament. And I'm thrilled to see a young Hooligan with such initiative- she's put in a lot of training, and I know she's already quite a shieldmaiden. She's asked me to help her train."

Hiccup sighs, resigned. "Of course she has."

"So I've proposed a trade: This winter I will make arrangements to train her. And in return, Astrid will train _you_ how to use at least one short-range weapon. Hammer, axe, spear- whatever."

Hiccup's mouth falls open. "What is it with people making absurd suggestions today? Astrid, _you_ remember the first time I went through the old style Dragon Training. What a marvellous failure I was at all the Stop, Drop and Shield or the Hack and Roll." He turns to his dad. " I have my shield. More importantly, I have Toothless. I thought you'd accepted that I'm not a hammer kind of guy, Dad."

Stoick nods, holding a hand out to keep him from protesting further. "Hiccup. I know it's not your nature. You're a peacemaker, and Berk has never been more prosperous thanks to that. But not every tribe is content with trade when they see a land with plenty- Viking tribes especially. You'll be chief one day, son. It'll be your responsibility to protect our people. And you need to be ready to lead them into battle if -Odin forbid- there's ever a war. You're older now and you've finally started to… muscle up. You're able to wield a proper weapon, and it's past time you learned how."

Hiccup listens, eyes troubled.

Stoick continues. "Now Gobber's given it his best shot, and I know we'd only argue if I tried to do it myself. But it hasn't escaped my notice that there _is_ one person on this island you do listen to. Astrid can teach you the way we can't."

Hiccup screws up his face skeptically. "So you're going to ask my girlfriend to hit me with weapons on a regular basis. Wow, thanks Dad. I'm sure this will do wonders for our relationship."

Astrid gives him an exasperated look. "Come on, Hiccup. You taught me to train dragons. Let me return the favor." She smiles tentatively. "You get time off when we train, and we haven't had a lot of time to spend together since we graduated. It might even be fun."

He looks at her and sighs before giving her a wry smile. "Aren't you supposed to do the honey part before the hatchet?"

Satisfied, Stoick stands and grips Hiccup's shoulder. "Good. That's settled, then. I've got to do some Chiefing at the docks now- another boat of settlers was spotted earlier and they should be almost here. Hiccup- there's smoked fish stew, bread and pie from the Larsons on the table. Plenty there if you'd like to stay, Astrid."

Stoick strides out and Astrid throws Hiccup an apologetic look once the door shuts behind him. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. I just wanted the best warrior in our village to train me and well- I can't really say no to the Chief."

He shakes his head, waving her towards the table. "Aw- don't worry about it. He's right. That title just waiting for me comes with a whole list of prerequisites and responsibilities."

She looks contrite as she helps move the place settings. "I'm sorry I said that, too."

He shrugs and starts serving the stew. "Well it _isn__'__t_ fair. Look at this- free dinner even though I didn't do a thing. I know how lucky I am, even if I'd rather be, I don't know, inventing things or doing small home repair. But I guess… we all just have to do our best with what the Gods deal us. Anyway, I'm glad it's you doing the weapons training rather than say, Snotlout."

She snorts. "Well, with that glowing stamp of approval, I can't wait for our first training session."

He sighs. "You sure I can't talk you out of going for this? I… care- about you and we are talking almost guaranteed injury here."

She meets his eye. "I'm not afraid of a little injury. You already have a badass scar- it's past time I show everybody what _I__'__m_ made of."

He gives her an appalled look. "You know what I remember about being a badass? Not beating the Red Death- no, no- I was blacked out. When I came to, it was delirium and chills, the reek of poultices and infection. The best part was the screaming while my Dad held me down so that the Elder could cut the rot out. And finally, passing out again when she held a brand to it topped off the whole heroic adventure."

She's gone pale and her eyes are wet, but she remains steadfast. "I remember. I was there, outside that whole time- who do you think was holding Toothless back? I'm not- trying to make light of how much you suffered. But you got through it, and I'd hope I could do the same if I ever had to. I mean, I don't even notice you're missing a leg most of the time. You can walk and run and dance. And that peg leg helps you fly better than the rest of us."

She covers his hand with hers, needing him to understand. "You really want to know what your leg means to me? It's the price you paid to end the war for all of us, Hiccup. _You won a war_. You're the Hope and Heir, the Dragon Conqueror. You want to know who _I_ am? I'm the girl who came in _second_ in Dragon Training that year. I'm the girl who didn't even _place_ at Thawfest last year. I'm the girl who is going to have zero income all winter besides what I get from mending nets and splitting fish. So yeah, I want to turn this one thing I'm good at into _something_. And the opportunity is right there. So I need your support in this, okay?"

He's not exactly convinced, but he gives a reluctant nod.

"…Okay. But- you know that you're good at more than just fighting, right?"

"I know. But come on, Hiccup! _This is the All Viking Tournament_. All the tribes, fantastic displays of fighting prowess, former champions, goods from across the isles, dancing and feasts- I've been dreaming of participating my whole life. I have to at least try."

"Well, with my dad's help you might do better than try," he admits. "He's-"

"-a three time champion. I know. He trained my Uncle Finn, too."

Her eyes go sad with remembrance so Hiccup changes the subject and gets up to grab a knife for the bread. "Want to hear about the custom order that came in? You won't believe what they want engraved."

She looks at him gratefully and smiles. And the rest of the evening goes the way it normally does when two young people who like each other an awful lot share a meal.

* * *

Stoick officially redesignates the arena for training, and Astrid pores through weapons training manuals and refamiliarizes herself with the moves whenever she has time to spare. As autumn turns to winter, good flying weather becomes less and less common and everything besides the pines begins to go brown and dry. She has to admit that foraging season is done when she comes back empty handed three days in a row. She asks Hiccup to report to the arena the next morning to start training, and when he arrives she's already there sorting through a big crate of weapons.

Astrid gives him a bright smile. "First things first. We choose a weapon for you to try out."

Hiccup gamely reaches in and grabs the first weapon: a mace.

She makes a face and gives her head a half-shake. "…Maybe let's start with the lighter weapons."

Hiccup sighs and shoves it back in the crate, fervently hoping this won't be too humiliating.

She smacks him on the shoulder. "Hey! Stop that. The reason I agreed to do this is because I think the Chief is right."

He looks up skeptically and she explains. "I've always been slim and short and you're a Hiccup. So we can't just smash our way to victory the same way most Vikings do. ButI've always been able to win fights anyway, and so can you. Think of it as…fighting like Loki instead of Thor. Dodge and distract, and strike like an adder when you spot your opening. Use your opponent's weight and strength against them; know where all the weak points are. It works."

He smiles slowly as he thinks back over the way he's seen her move against Alvin, Snotlout- anybody. "That…makes…so much sense." He gives her a look of pure admiration. "You're a genius."

She grins back, shrugging modestly before continuing breezily. "Well, it's not like it's going to be easy. You're still clumsy and undisciplined, and your endurance and strength need some major work."

He raises his eyebrows wryly. "…And then with the honesty."

She deflates slightly. "Hiccup."

But he smiles reassuringly. "No, you're right. So was my dad. If anybody can teach me, it's you."

She takes heart with that statement, eyes brightening. Then she briskly picks up a spear and steps a couple feet back.

She gives it a whirl in her hands, stopping it mid-spin to stab forward. "So the spear is good if you want to keep enemies at a further distance than with say, an axe or a sword. Plus you can throw it in a pinch. If you want to carry a shield you won't be able to use it two handed though. Give it a try?"

He hefts it experimentally, giving it a slow spin and stab the way she had. She shrugs and moves on.

"The sword is pretty basic- if you want to use a shield too, this would probably be the easiest to coordinate with it." She slashes and steps forward through to the next slash fluidly.

He swaps his spear for a sword and imitates her, and she nods approval. "Good. But aren't you left handed?"

He blinks. "Uh- everybody else holds a sword this way."

She smiles. "Well, yeah. But it'll be easier for _you_ if you swing left-handed, just…" She switches hands and adjusts her grip and stance, then walks through the first two slashes again. It looks a little awkward on her, but he after he tries it, he has to admit that it feels more natural.

"Might actually give you an advantage- most people won't have trained against a lefty."

He nods, feeling encouraged. "Sounds like my kind of advantage."

She grins. "Great. We can start with sword training then. Well, let's move this stuff to the side and we can start with the drills."

Stoick stops by a couple hours later, observing as Astrid patiently adjusts Hiccup's posture. "I know it's getting heavy. But you need get used to keeping the tip up- you're not resting it on a grindstone anytime soon."

He does his manful best despite the aching in his arms and shoulders, a glint of stubbornness in his eye. When he spots his dad, he gives a wry smile and shrug and Stoick smiles and nods in acknowledgement.

It's never been easy to father this son of his. But they both know when he's got something right.

* * *

A few months later, Hiccup is used to the bruises.

Maybe it's a Viking thing, but having his girlfriend hit him with weapons actually _is _good for their relationship.

It's not just the extra time spent together- he might not have her endurance or flexibility or sheer level of skill, but it's satisfying for both of them to see him improving. And it's actually really fun when they practice tumble dodging with Stormfly and Toothless- there's no better incentive than a Nadder spine or light plasma blast threatening to bite you in the ass if you're too slow. There's a kind of camaraderie too- comparing bruises and talking about techniques and footwork is a lot like the friendly competition of the Dragon Training Academy again.

He doesn't mind the changes in his physique either- he might never be brawny, but that admiring way Astrid looks at his body now sure give his confidence a jolt.

Astrid wasn't kidding when she said violence was communication: she's also been training him to observe closely so he can tell when she's feinting, which way she's about to lunge or where she's decided to slash. "You're good at this with dragons. You _have_ to be good at this with people. The bad thing about being built like this is that we can't wear heavy armor- it's more burden than help. So one hit and we're usually done- you have to stay alert and ahead of your opponent."

Every bruise and missed hit is a lesson, and he knows he's making progress- the movements are becoming muscle memory and he can actually dodge some of her hits now.

It becomes even clearer when Snotlout decides to pay them a visit while they're training.

"So this is what the great Dragon Conqueror has been up to? I know you've never been much of a Viking, Hiccup. But learning to fight from a girl? Really?"

Astrid throws him a withering look. "Don't you have ships to build? Or some other people to annoy?"

Snotlout grins, leaning back against the wall. "Just completed a sale. Twenty foot longship and a full complement of oars. With all the trade pouring in the family coffers for that one, I thought I'd take the rest of the morning off and have a little stroll around town."

"Such an unexpected pleasure for us," Hiccup says dryly. "Did you need something from the arena?"

"Naw. Just wanted to watch Astrid kick your ass."

They both tilt their heads and glare at him, words unneeded. It's not that they don't get the occasional spectator, but one doing his utmost to be obnoxious and intrusive is hardly welcome.

"This isn't a show, Snotlout. Get out," Astrid says, stepping in front of Hiccup and waving her sword towards the door.

"Or what? You'll strike down an unarmed man? Not very Viking-like of you."

She glowers, but Hiccup places a hand on her shoulder.

"You know, I've got a better idea. You want to see me fight like a girl? Fine. Why don't you try me on?"

Snotlout's sneer becomes downright gleeful, and he pushes away from the wall to stride over to the weapons crate. "Welllll, I wouldn't want to be accused of bullying." (Hiccup and Astrid both roll their eyes.) "But since you're issuing a challenge, I guess I can show Astrid what a real man is capable of…"

Astrid gives Hiccup a worried look, but he shrugs it off, explaining quietly.

"If I lose, he'll leave knowing he's still able to beat me up. One or two more bruises won't be a big deal. It'll get him out of our hair, at any rate."

Snotlout chooses a double-handed sword, swinging it experimentally before nodding with satisfaction, moving into the sparring area chalked into the center of the arena.

Hiccup takes up the customary position on the opposite side and Astrid backs out, frowning. She knows the resentment there is pretty deep seated- he'd basically lost the Chiefdom by default when Hiccup was born. And despite all the growing pains, Hiccup had not only beaten all the odds against him making it out of childhood alive, he'd more than proven his worth in the last two years.

All of those triumphs have to stick in the craw a bit, even with the truce of sorts struck during their Academy years. Her and Hiccup's openly acknowledged relationship is just the newest bone of contention to add to the pile- Snotlout had been hitting on her for years.

They both watch him advance, a satisfied sneer on his face. Hiccup stands lightly, waiting, gauging.

Snotlout's body language is easy to read- that first blow is going to come heavily from the left, across the exposed midsection under the light leather armor Hiccup's designed. He obviously expects Hiccup to try –and fail—to parry.

When it comes, he's ready- Hiccup pivots back and the sword hisses harmlessly past. Snotlout can only gawp over his exposed shoulder as Hiccup brings his sword down on Snotlout's left wrist guard.

Snotlout howls and his sword clatters to the ground.

"Well, that's going to be a nice bruise," Astrid observes, smirking. "Looks like fighting like a girl isn't completely ineffective."

"That's- not- proper technique!"

"You'd have preferred it in the ribs?" Hiccup asks dryly. He knows better than to smirk, but it's a nice feeling finally getting one up on his cousin at a physical contest.

Snotlout examines his arm gingerly before stalking toward the exit.

"Whatever. It's just because you get every morning off to train. I'm a working man and I don't have time for childish games. In fact, you know those nets that needed mending, Astrid? Yeah, don't bother coming to the docks later- you aren't needed."

Her eyes widen and she goes pale before bright spots of color appear in her cheeks. "What? But that's completely unfair!"

Hiccup is just as incensed. "Snotlout! That's uncalled for!"

Snotlout shrugs. "Tell it to someone who cares." And he saunters out with his head held high, pride apparently salvaged.

Astrid mutters an oath and hurls her sword into the ground, bringing her hands up to her temples.

Hiccup goes to her, feeling useless and guilty. There isn't much to do around Berk once winter sets in, and she's been taking what menial work she can find- helping split and dry the fish her Dad brings in only takes up a couple afternoons a week and he usually does it himself anyway. They all know she'd relied on the Jorgenson job for extra income.

"I'm sorry, Astrid. I should have just let him whack me."

She scrubs a hand over her eyes, shakes her head and swallows. "Whatever. He's just a muttonhead sore loser. And you dodged and disarmed perfectly, so you know? I'm doing something right. He can mend his stupid nets himself- I need to read up on what to teach you next anyway."

He tentatively slides an arm around her, and she sighs and leans into him, accepting the comfort until her eyes and nose stop stinging at the unfairness of it. Then she pulls back and punches his arm lightly. "Well we better stop wasting training time, babe. We can relax when I _can__'__t_ kick your ass."

* * *

Winter on Berk is long, and rest days seem few and far between now that they're adults. But every once in awhile, even during Devastating Winter, the weather dawns clear on a rest day, and the air above Berk fills with a cacophony of dragons and riders as soon as breakfast is done.

They're Hooligans. Making noise is a way of life.

Hiccup and Astrid usually start with a spiralling climb straight out of Berk, giving Stormfly and Toothless free rein to stretch their wings. It's hard to care about the bone deep chill when the horizon is beckoning, the day so full of infinite possibilities.

They rarely take off with any sort of agenda- date day is an adventure. Stampeding boars, breathtaking scenery, majestic Timberjack encounters, screaming farmers- Viking dating isn't for the faint of heart, especially when you throw dragons into the mix.

So they're not particularly perturbed when they end up in some cave taking shelter from a squall one frosty afternoon, unable to take off due to damage to Toothless' tail fin rigging. They have food, a blanket, Astrid's axe and Hiccup's new emergency torch, plus their dragons- the only thing that worries Hiccup is that he'll probably have to use the drawstring from his pants to temporarily repair the line.

Boy, that's going to be awkward to explain when they get home.

Astrid holds the torch so Hiccup can inspect the damage with both hands, and he sighs as he examines the snapped and frayed cord.

"Must have gotten caught on something while they were horsing around in the forest. Looks like I'll need a new piece of rope about a foot long. I can use my drawstring, but well…" he gestures at his pants and raises his brows.

Astrid laughs, imagining the looks on people's faces. She looks down at herself. "Well, how about these?" She shows him the leather straps holding on her fur wrist guards.

Hiccup sighs with relief. "Thanks- so much better. Just need to find something to cut a piece off." He waves his hand and shakes his head when she starts to untie one. "We can't go until this squall blows over anyway. Should try to stay as warm as possible until then."

She squints at the entrance of the cave. "Shouldn't be more than a couple hours, right?"

"If it's a typical winter squall." Hiccup grabs the blanket off Stormfly and smiles. "Might as well get comfortable while we wait it out."

She sets the torch down carefully on the ground and they wrap themselves in the blanket while the dragons settle on either side of them.

"Remember what Fishlegs said about being caught in the cold?" she asks.

He smirks, sliding an arm around her. "Oh, I remember."

She cuddles close, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Well, this is actually kind of nice."

He shifts, pulling her closer. "You know, I'd like to test an idea about producing more body heat," he says, frowning with mock seriousness.

She laughs and nods, pretending to frown. "I see. Well we should get on that."

"Always a pleasure to see how dedicated you are."

"Mmmhmm…"

They conduct their "little experiment" for a couple minutes before Hiccup pulls back. "Just a second. Don't want to set the blanket on fire by accident."

There's also no need to waste the Monstrous Nightmare saliva that fuels the torch. It's easily available on Berk compared to imported sulfur and lime thanks to Gobber's dental practice, but still- they'll need the light when he's doing the actual repairs.

Hiccup picks up the torch, waving it to gauge how much saliva is still inside.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees both dragon heads wave in unison and he looks up, worried. Dragon senses are far more acute than theirs- if there's a Whispering Death or Changewing in the area, Toothless and Stormfly will know first.

But they're calm- a little _too_ calm.

"Huh. Look at that." Hiccup watches closely as he waves the torch slowly and both Toothless and Stormfly tilt their heads with it as if mesmerized.

"Huh. So dragons like fire. Not surprising, considering," Astrid says.

He tilts the torch to the side, and they both smile as both dragons' pupils dilate and their jaws drop open.

And then he starts considering the possibilities.

"Hey, you know how you were saying I should start carrying a sword? That I'm not half bad at using it now and what-not."

She frowns, confused by the sudden change in subject. "Yeah. But what-" She stops when she sees the look on his face and laughs, exasperated. "Seriously?"

He grins at her. "C'mon. You know you love a bit of Hiccup flair."

"You're going to Hiccup flair a- a- flaming sword?!"

"A dragon training tool. Which happens to be a flaming sword," he corrects her, and she just groans.

"Set yourself on fire and I will laugh at you forever."

He grins. How can an idea this cool possibly be bad?

* * *

As spring approaches, Astrid upgrades her estimation of Hiccup's sword skills from fair to good. It's frustrating that she's still better though, if only due to her agility- he has the endurance to chase her around the arena now and the skill to fend off her attacks and land hits. But actually getting her to the yielding point before she slips past his defenses with a critical hit is an achievement that hovers just out of reach for weeks.

And then one day, pressing forward with a flurry of attacks, Hiccup finally manages to send Astrid's sword clattering to the ground.

They both stop, panting and stunned. Then she whoops and leaps up to kiss him, heedless of her throbbing wrist and the shield on her other arm.

"You did it! Oh, Hiccup!"

He laughs and twirls her around, pulling her close for another kiss.

Her cheeks are pink and her eyes glowing with pride as she laughs. He's not sure he's ever seen her more excited, so incredibly happy for him. Flushed with exultation and appreciation, the words just seem to tumble out of his mouth.

"I love you."

Her eyes go round, and she gives a little gasp. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes before she smiles at him tremulously.

"Hiccup… I… Me too."

He grins teasingly, raising his brows. "I me too?"

She looks away, punching him half-heartedly. "You can't just- you know what I mean." She hugs him, seeming to wrestle with her emotions. "Just kiss me, okay?" she mumbles against his chest.

Feeling more triumphant than ever, he drops sword and shield so he can cup her face in his hands. He can see all that emotion reflected in her eyes, and the way she sighs and surrenders herself to the kiss tells him everything he needs to know.

The moment is so perfect, a culmination of the feelings that have been growing between them- he doesn't even care how sweaty they are, that they smell of steel and dust.

He would have been perfectly happy kissing her the rest of the morning, but there's an awkward harrumph of a cough.

They break apart immediately, flustered.

"Dad!"

"Chief!" Astrid gulps, flushing crimson and hastily brushing her bangs back. "Is something wrong?"

"Change of plan. We leave tonight, by boat. Trader Johann's just delivered a message saying our dragons won't be welcome. Security concerns with so many Chiefs expected."

Hiccup is dismayed. "But it adds days to the journey if we go by boat- it's just hours on dragonback. You went last year on Thornado."

Stoick shakes his head. "We respect the wishes of our host. Don't blame him, considering. Astrid- you and me in the ring, then you both go home to pack."

She nods and runs to get her axe, and Hiccup hustles to pick up their discarded swords and his shield. He usually prefers not to watch- she trains on a totally different level, with stakes that are far higher. It's hard enough not to wince when she shows up with an arm in a sling or when he finds livid bruises under her clothing when they're making out. Actually watching her take a hit makes his stomach lurch into his mouth.

Astrid shrugs it off, of course- she's determined to become the best. Hel, sometimes she's grinning at the sheer _fun_ of it when she's on the offensive. And he can't help but admire her grit when she manages to keep on coming after a hit. The axe she wields is like a lethal extension of her arm, and he can tell why she prefers it to the sword- despite her build, she can give it enough momentum to shatter a shield.

Stoick obviously has high hopes for her- he regularly boasts about her successes. Throughout winter he'd arranged for her to face off against at least half the village to get her used to the variation in competitors while he coaches her through the bouts. Astrid's been sporting fewer of the gruesome bruises nowadays, and he knows she's feeling very optimistic about her chances. Seeing her actually go up against his dad though?

He's pretty sure it'll be both awe inspiring and horrible.

They start slowly, pacing in a circle and twirling their axes in that casually menacing way before his Dad suddenly moves, a wall of strength and certainty, swinging his axe at Astrid.

Astrid tumbles to the side, comes up on her feet and ventures onto the offensive while Stoick is still turning, trying to hook his knee with her axe and send him to the ground. She misses, but uses the momentum to dance out of range when Stoick swings defensively.

_Loki instead of Thor._ It's never been as clear as it is now- his dad is fast for a man his size, but Astrid is far more agile and he can practically hear her thinking while she's on the move.

"Good. Bolder next time. Second chances are rare," Stoick comments.

"Yes, sir," she says, and the dance is back on- Stoick advances, whirling his axe double handed and she skips sideways, a mosquito before a mountain, before unexpectedly jumping back with a strike to the wrist after his axe whirls past.

He grunts but doesn't drop his weapon, and she has to scramble out of the way- she's too close, and she just barely escapes a flat bladed swat and the follow up slice.

Hiccup cringes until she's back on her feet. He is never going to get used to this.

But she's dancing around again, albeit a little dusty from the tumbles, and his dad nods approvingly, continuing on the offense.

Stoick's increase in aggressive tactics means Astrid is on the run for the next few minutes- she doesn't even try to parry the strokes or block with her shield, merely ensuring that they always miss. She keeps one eye on his dad and the other on their position in the arena. Each time he comes close to pinning her, she slips to the side, sleek as an eel.

He stops eventually though, smiling as he puffs. "I see what you're doing, young lady."

She grins impishly. She's still light on her feet and alert, whereas he's visibly slowing, breathing heavily. He plants his feet and waits, jerking his chin up, and she nods and comes closer warily. His reach is far beyond hers- Hiccup has no idea how this will play out in anything but stalemate or a loss if she takes him head on.

She seems to be testing his range, dancing closer and then jumping back when he takes a swing or step or both. Stoick seems puzzled too, watching her intensely.

Hoping to surprise her, he bulls forward suddenly.

But her eyes narrow and she slides under the swipe of his axe, bringing her axe around to hook the back of his knee and yanking.

For the first time in his life, Hiccup watches his dad lose his footing.

And it's all the opening she needs- her teeth are gritted as she surges upward to hook his axe out of his right hand, spinning it several feet away even as he grabs her reflexively and brings her crashing down with him.

By tournament rules, she's won the bout, but Hiccup doesn't relax until he sees her uncurl from her defensive position and sit up, grinning with giddy disbelief at her success. For one stomach clenching moment he'd just watched her desperately try to avoid being crushed.

Stoick roars with laughter as he clambers to his feet, slapping her on the back. "Well played! By Thor, what a Valkyrie you are, Astrid! You'll do us Hooligans proud!"

"Thank you, Chief. I suppose it's a day for firsts," she gasps, smiling tenderly at Hiccup.

He smiles back, relieved and humbled. She might just win this after all.

* * *

_AN: Sorry to followers for the step back in time- I knew I needed to do research to make the fight scenes believable and I didn__'__t have the time or resources while overseas so while I was writing them concurrently for a bit, I decided to finish __"__Fumbling__"__ first so followers wouldn__'__t have to wait more than a month between updates. I also knew it would be a monster to write since it covers the 9 months of Berkian winter (and then the Tournament) in the timeline between __"__Open Air__"__ and __"__Fumbling__"__. I hope it was worth the wait and that the progression in their relationship feels believable. I__'__ll be re-posting __"__Fumbling__"__ after giving it an edit to fit these chapters. _

_Hiccup is so much more comfortable with himself physically in HTTYD__2__, and I wanted to explore how he got there since he__'__s still nowhere near as of DoB. Puberty finally gives him and Astrid both inches, but I figured it had to be Astrid that finally teaches him how to fight independent of Toothless since she has always had a very similar build. (Naturally he adds a flaming sword for the requisite Hiccup flair.) _

_I also wanted to give Astrid a story where her main purpose was not to simply be the love interest, but to recognize how she has motivations and goals of her own. HTTYD2 actually disappointed me that way- she had no character arc besides changing her opinion of Eret; she__'__s mostly a one-note __"__support Hiccup__"__ character like she has become in the series. And I find that really frustrating: Astrid is Hiccup__'__s opposite in so many ways that their perceptions and goals should come into natural conflict, at least some of time. So with that idea of them faced off in conflict, this chapter (and the next) was born._

_Thoughts and concrit are always appreciated!_


	4. Into the Fire

_AN: Sorry to those who reviewed- I had to split this chapter because 11000 words was a bit much, so I broke it into two cohesive narratives as best I could. Next chapter will be titled as promised. :) Thanks to attachedtomybookshelf on tumblr for the beta!_

* * *

Hiccup doesn't usually get seasick- he's taken his fair share of boats in his lifetime, it being the Viking way, and all. But the rough post-winter swell has him and a good number of the others feeling more ill than usual. He barely eats or sleeps due to the constant nausea, and the creeping pace and confinement on the longship makes him yearn for the freedom found on dragonback.

He misses Toothless like crazy, even the early morning wake ups, fish-scented saliva and sassy attitude. But he takes his turn on the oars and keeps his stomach as empty as possible, albeit not always by choice. It's not the end of the world, but it strengthens his resolution to promote cooperation with dragons- journeys like this can be easily avoided with a little more understanding.

The entire gang is going to attend the Tournament, but Fishlegs, Ruff and Tuff are on the other boat with the merchant families. Sadly, the Jorgensons are on theirs and Snotlout gloats over Hiccup's apparent weakness at every opportunity.

Astrid is steadfastly sympathetic, glaring daggers at his cousin although she keeps her mouth shut. Spitelout had ended up overruling Snotlout's decision, and he'd personally asked Astrid to come back- dragons drive fish into nets quite vigorously, so they need every hand to keep on top of repairs. Since Astrid had already found new work at the Thurstons washing and carding wool on shares, the unpleasant incident had ended up a blessing in disguise. She has a good amount to trade at the Tournament markets now, but there's still some underlying tension there.

Compared to Berk, Shivering Shores is huge, sprawling between its beaches like a forest of buildings and bustle. The dockmaster greets Stoick with warm familiarity and gives him directions. They file behind their Chief as he leads the way past markets, storied homes, multiple covered wells and food stalls. It's hard for some of them not to gawk at the sheer variety of food and goods on display- Berk's sparse and simple fare is provincial in comparison.

They walk past a row of longhouses, wood still yellow and smelling of fresh pine. There are simple runic signs over the doors demarking different places in the Viking nation, and Vikings of all shapes and sizes bustle in and out of them. Stoick clears his throat and speaks once they're all assembled in front of the two marked "Berk".

"Our host has kindly built these longhouses for overseas guests, one for the men, one for the women. Toilets are there, Bathhouse there. I don't need to warn you about starting trouble with the neighbors- last thing we need is to be asked to leave. Markets and food stalls stay open here past nightfall- feel free to wash and rest before exploring." He turns to Hiccup. "You put down our things, have a quick wash and then come with me- the Chief's Gathering will convene now that we've arrived. We've kept them long enough."

Astrid throws Hiccup a sympathetic look- she knows how little he's slept over the past few days. But duty calls- his dad has already given him a rundown of the alliances and rivalries to be aware of and the odd outlier position Berk holds among the Tribes. These meetings give them the chance to foster trade and goodwill: very necessary now that their love of dragons has made other Vikings view them as eccentric at best.

The Gathering is at Shivering Shore's Great Hall, and many of the other Chiefs are already there when they arrive, clustered in groups around the table.

All the voices die down when Stoick strides in- nobody could say he didn't have presence.

"Stoick! Good of you to finally show up!" one of them calls.

Stoick acknowledges the Chiefs with a nod. "High seas in the crossing. My apologies for our late arrival." He turns to Nils, Chief of Shivering Shores. "The people of Berk appreciate your hospitality."

Nils is swarthy and dark haired, with oddly light blue eyes. He'd been Shivering Shore's long-time dockmaster before the sudden death of his brother and his heir had forced him to pick up the Chief's mantle. His face is weathered from a life spent outdoors, but it's creased with more laugh lines than age and he acknowledges Stoick warmly before glancing at Hiccup.

"And we are honoured to be your hosts. You remember me, lad?"

Hiccup smiles. "Yes, sir. Chowder, ale and hot apple pie?"

Nils roars with laughter and stands to clap him on the shoulder. "That's the ticket! And it seems you've finally fed him some, Stoick. Not too much, mind."

Hiccup tilts his head and lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. He can hear the incredulous murmurs from some of the others; he's used to the remarks over his abbreviated size compared to his father's when people first clap eyes on Stoick's heir.

Stoick puts a hand on his shoulder and raises his chin proudly before looking meaningfully around the room. "Not always size that counts."

Nils bobs his head agreeably, pursing his lips. "Agreed, agreed." He turns to address the room. "Well, if you can all be seated, we can start with the Tournament arrangements."

The meeting starts with the Chiefs listing contributions to the prizes and feasts before divvying up the tasks of judging, cleaning and first aid. Hiccup observes the dynamics in the room while the offers and negotiations proceed. Some of the Chiefs hold a lot more power than the others. His Dad gets respect for being the oldest in the room, Nils for hosting; a few of the others also have considerable economic clout. Hiccup commits the faces and names to memory. His dad is big on reminding him that one day he'll be doing this for Berk, no cheat sheets allowed.

"Good. All settled. Now for the participants. From Berk?"

"Astrid Hofferson, carrying an axe. She would like to gain the title of Fearless," Stoick says.

Nils writes her name down on a slip of paper. "No others?"

"None."

The Chiefs start listing names, a few of whom have already acquired descriptive, if not particularly original titles: Rasp the Terrible, Halver the Horrible- Hiccup chokes when Nils names a Grunhild the Giant. But there is a murmur when the Lochtuck Chief names himself.

"Orcan, Chief of Lochtuck. I bear a poleaxe," he rumbles. He doesn't add any descriptive titles but he doesn't need them: his reputation is enough. He'd been barely of age when he'd become Lochtuck's Chief, immediately quashing a rebellion led by his uncle. He'd proceeded to win the last two All Viking Tournaments before marrying the daughter of a Southron state leader, forging an alliance that made Lochtuck a force to reckoned with despite its position to the far east. The young blond giant has mostly observed the proceedings with a kind of watchful intensity- none of Lochtuck's offers have been contested.

"Excellent. And from Hopeless?"

The Chief, a portly man, shrugs evasively. "None this year."

Nils gives him a puzzled look but takes his statement at face value. It seems to be the start of a pattern though: the last three Chiefs also offer no candidates, to Nil's consternation.

"Come, come! Only thirty-nine participants? Where are all your young Vikings seeking honor and glory?"

Hiccup frowns. There are customarily draws for the right to participate, since the pool of hopefuls is usually excessive.

But Stoick has seen this effect before. There's a reason he's only a three-time champion. "Nils is right. There is no dishonor in losing to the better Viking and plenty of room in the Winner's Circle."

The Chief of Injar shakes his head and sneers. "Well, why doesn't _your _heir enter, then? Surely he can provide us a fine example. After all, we might not be in this situation if the Berserkers hadn't felt the need to boycott due to your ongoing dispute."

There's a nasty silence.

Hiccup's eyes narrow, but he starts to consider it despite himself.

Stoick shoves his chair back and plants his palms on the table. "I'll have you know that _my son_-"

Hiccup quickly puts a hand on his father's arm. "Dad. _Dad._ It's okay." He meets the eye of the Injar chief. "He has no idea what I'm capable of. I can enter."

Stoick still looks thunderous and he shakes his head.

"You've not trained for this, son. Astrid's given this months, even years of preparation. I won't ask this of you to appease some fool," he spits, glaring at the Injar Chief.

Nils also stands, palms up to try to stem the argument. "The lad has no blunted weapon anyway. Surely one of the tribes with no-"

"I'm _not_- a boy anymore. And I happen to have a weapon," Hiccup says quickly. He places Inferno on the table and unsheathes it, but doesn't set it alight. "Haven't put an edge on it yet. It's more of a dragon training tool," he says casually.

Stoick's face twitches. It's not like Hiccup to forget to mention the more interesting aspects of that sword of his- unless he has a plan.

He's seen the steely resolution in his eyes before, knows his son's knack for ingenuity and strategy. Astrid's proclaimed him proficient at the sword even given her exacting standards.

And it's the way Vikings respond to a challenge.

"You're a man now. It's your decision."

Hiccup nods decisively. "I'm in."

Stoick grips his shoulder and Hiccup does his best not to wince at the pressure. "So be it. Berk has one more entry. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. Sword. I want him known as the Pride of Berk," he says gruffly.

Nils nods and writes one last slip of paper.

* * *

"You did _what_?!"

Hiccup sighs and looks at Astrid. He would have preferred to wait until morning to tell her. The longhouse walls are thin, and he's betting most of the Hooligans are trying to sleep off the journey inside.

But she's Astrid, dutiful and determined. Of course she waited up for him.

"There were only thirty nine entrants. And I was right there."

"Have you lost your mind? You're nowhere near ready! You could be killed!"

He gives her an appalled look, laughing wryly. "Okay, I can't be the only one here with this odd sense of déjà- hey! Ow! Astrid!"

"It's not funny, Hiccup!"

"Well- I'm not joking! It's not like I could refuse with all the other Chiefs watching for an admission of weakness and the Berserker/Berk boycott on the table."

Her outrage deflates, and she just looks at him and shakes her head, stricken.

He tilts his head and takes hold of her hands. "Look, I have a better chance of making it out of there with my head intact than I did say, six months ago. I'm not that scrawny kid that needs protection from even himself anymore, Astrid."

She inhales, understanding the unspoken plea. She meets his eye and squeezes his hands. "I _know _that. It's just… I love you, okay? And this just sounds like- stupid pride and posturing."

He smiles wryly, keeping a firm grip on the rush of elation her words elicit. "Well, we're Vikings. It's an occupational hazard."

That makes her smile at last and she groans. "I wish you could have Toothless with you."

"Yeaahh, I think that would go over about as well as the first time he showed up in an arena. The other Chiefs think we're nuts."

Her eyebrows knit together with concern. "Trade talks didn't go well?"

"Let's just say there are some pretty entrenched opinions against dragons. The Tournament thing didn't help matters- Dad was a bit testy. Don't think we'll be importing pearls anytime soon."

"Well, maybe the other Chiefs will change their minds when they see the goods we have for trade. Gronkle iron is pretty amazing stuff. And we still have paper, wool, furs and cured fish if they refuse to touch the dragon things."

He shrugs. "I guess. We'd better turn in. We'll have to check the rosters in the morning."

She sighs and kisses him. "Muttonhead. How am I supposed to sleep now?"

"Aw, come on. You would have been too excited to sleep anyway," he teases.

She smiles and leans her head on his shoulder, determined to stifle the feeling of rising panic. He's got the same right to prove himself as anybody else.

She'll just have to believe, pray that he survives despite the odds the way he always does.

* * *

Hiccup sleeps like the dead that night, and actually feels almost human in the morning after breakfast, feeding off the excitement of the gang as they gush over the Tournament.

Naturally they have the same reservations as Astrid over his surprise entry.

"You're sooooo dead. You forgot to bring your dragon, you know," Ruffnut says.

Hiccup rolls his eyes. "I didn't _forget_ to bring Toothless."

Fishlegs is equally skeptical. "I would estimate your odds of surviving today's bout without permanent injury to be about thirty percent, based on typical first round statistics. I don't understand why you signed up at all, Hiccup," he says, face pinched with worry.

"Aw, whatever," Tuffnut says, yawning and waving his reservations aside. "The first day is half dud matches anyway- there's usually hardly any blood when somebody gets disarmed or incapacitated. The really cool carnage starts on day two. Just try to get disqualified today and you might not get killed," he advises.

The insights don't help the butterflies when Astrid drags him off to check the rosters.

Their names are listed far apart. His bout will probably end up mid-morning and hers will hopefully be in the afternoon, as long as matches don't last too long. It really depends on how well the opponents are matched in the first place, and it's literally just names out of a helmet.

The oddest reaction is Snotlout's- he's got nothing to say about Hiccup's entry at all, lingering in the background as Stoick solemnly stripes Hiccup's face with Haddock red in the longhouse. Stoick gives Hiccup a hug, brusquely telling him how proud he is before he leaves to join the other Chiefs in the opening ceremonies.

It's unnerving to see Snotlout quiet for so long, and Hiccup finally breaks the silence as he straps on his armor.

"Is- something bothering you?"

Snotlout shrugs and looks at his hands. "…I never really thought about it, but- I like building ships. Hookfang and I- we're good at placing booms and rigging sails and stuff. It's a good feeling to see a ship come together, you know? And I'm not really a people person. You know- giving orders or being in meetings."

Hiccup blinks, puzzled. "Ooookay? I guess I feel the same way?"

Snotlout looks up at him, annoyed. "No, that's not- Look, just be careful out there today."

Comprehension dawns and Hiccup smiles self-deprecatingly. "Not really dying to be Chief one day either. But- thanks. I'll uh, do my best."

Snotlout looks away. "Yeah, whatever."

Astrid is waiting outside, face painted with a mask of aqua and orange, exuding an air of nervous energy. It fades quickly once they get to the fighter's area by the arena though: it's obvious from the looks on even the judges' faces that they aren't expected to stand much of a chance. All the other candidates present are proper Viking size, with proper Viking helmets. But they ignore the sneers, get their weapon edges examined and leave their shields as directed.

One of the judges makes an announcement. "You can leave, but don't go far. Ale is free for fighters, but try not to get too drunk until after your match. Expect you to report back during the match before yours."

A good number of the participants immediately set off for the ale stands: alcohol dulls pain and inhibits fear, and the price is right. But Astrid has other plans.

"Come on, Hiccup. You need even more of an idea of others' fighting styles than I do."

Much like Berk's, Shivering Shores' arena is usually used for typical Viking Dragon Training, hewn out of stone for maximum protection from fire, claws and teeth. A giant metal cage covers the center, with several heavy doors in both the floor and sides leading to dragon pits. Hiccup wonders absently what they've done with their captive dragons during the Tournament- the arena is huge and he can see at least eight sets of doors.

Astrid leads the way into the stands and spotting Fishlegs waving, they both clamber up to where he and the twins have hogged seats. Looking down, he can see his dad with the other Chiefs in the best seats next to the ring. The Jorgensons also have good seats in the paid section close to the action.

"You missed all the boring speech stuff. Blah blah honor, blah blah Viking cooperation, _COME ON,_ _let__'__s get to the fighting_!" Tuffnut shouts. He's not the only impatient one; others are hollering for the fighting to start and the din becomes deafening as the first two competitors enter the arena.

They're not disappointed: as soon as the horn blows the two run towards each other, meeting in a clash as their shields collide. One has a hammer and the other an axe, but they seem to be fairly evenly matched, wildly trading blows between shoves and blocks and occasionally peppering the exchange with shouted insults. A few minutes in though, tactics change: the one with the axe focuses on the other's shield, hacking and gouging at the wood until it cracks.

The crowd surges to its feet once the useless shield is discarded, its erstwhile owner swinging his hammer desperately.

Hiccup turns away with a wince just before the final blow. It doesn't really help- even up in the stands the sound of iron meeting flesh and cracking ribs is audible. The crowd roars and the horn blares a moment later: the hammer guy collapsed like an ox. Healers rush into the ring even as the winner holds up his axe and crows with triumph.

Astrid gives Hiccup an anxious look when she realizes he's watching the loser get carted off.

"Hiccup! Don't focus on him! The whole point is to analyze the strategy of the winner."

"There was a strategy besides beating the other guy's shield to a pulp?" he asks dryly.

"Well- no," she admits. "But if one of us faces him in the next round, we'll know what to expect."

The ring is cleared of the broken bits of shield and the name of the loser is crossed off the giant list of matches posted at the side, leaving the winner's – Poxxus Persson from the Meatheads. Then two more Vikings enter the ring, take their marks, and the horn blows again.

The next few bouts are pretty much the same- a contest of brutality until someone makes a sloppy move from tiredness or gets hampered by an injury. Occasionally some sort of dumb luck hastens the ending: a helmet falling over the eyes, tripping over the edge of a dragon pit door. Hiccup isn't sure he's learned much of anything, but he's very aware of the progress down that list of names.

Astrid is too- she doesn't usually hold his hand in front of everyone, but she takes it now and grips it while they sit. When the horn signals the end of the penultimate match to his, Hiccup gives her a pensive smile.

"I've got to go."

She nods, not letting go. "I'll walk you there."

"Hey Astrid."

Astrid gives Ruffnut a harried look as they get up. "What?"

"You get free ale, right? Hook us up on the way back?"

Tuffnut sits up at that and grins. "Yeah, free ale! Oh right, Hiccup. Hope you don't get killed. Sorta."

Astrid looks ready to explode, so Hiccup starts pulling her toward the stairs and calls over his shoulder.

"Look- if I make it out of the match, the next round is on me, okay?"

The twins deflate immediately. "Awwww!"

Fishlegs squirms, seemingly unable to contain himself. "You know, you can just _drop_ your weapon. You'd lose by default and end the match immediately. There are several precedents!" he calls after them as they head down the stands.

"I can't believe them. I just can't believe them. What they're worried about is_ free ale?_" Astrid seethes as they walk back outside.

"Relax. You know what they're like."

"I can't believe _you__'__re_ telling _me_ to relax," she sighs. But they're already in front of the holding area doors and he can see all the conflicting emotions in her eyes- pride, fear, love. She presses a hard kiss on his lips and hugs him tight. "You can do this. Just promise me nothing will go wrong."

He tilts her chin up and presses a gentler kiss to her lips, trying to believe in his own reassurances. "I promise. I learned from the best this time."

She smiles bracingly and steps back, and he walks into the holding area with only a little trepidation.

The horn blares, and the crowd roars as the previous match starts. One of the judges immediately walks over to him.

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third?"

"Yes."

There's a sort of pitying look in his eye, but he's matter of fact. "Well, pick up your shield and follow me."

Hiccup has to stand and wait by the entrance while the judge checks the proceedings before hurrying back in.

"Take your mark. And may Thor favor you today," he recites.

_Not really Thor__'__s favor I__'__m after._

It's funny- the nerves are similar to those he had before that memorable final exam, as is the noise of the crowd and proud set of his father's shoulders.

No Toothless to dash to the rescue though.

Well, hopefully he can rescue himself this time.

"An _actual_ Hiccup and a _stumper_? This has to be a joke!" his opponent exclaims as they take their marks. It's impossible to tell his family colors or even what he looks like besides big and brawny: Spiderclaw from Swirling Sands wears expensive gear- iron armor and a full helm- his upper body and face -even his eyes- are well protected.

Hiccup can feel his confidence waxing and a plan forming though, and he flexes his shield arm. "Good luck to you too," he calls.

The horn blares and Hiccup removes his shield and throws it to the side so he can transfer Inferno to his right hand while Spiderclaw closes the distance between them at a run.

The crowd makes noises of surprise when the shield hits the ground, but he stays alert and watchful, readying the blade, waiting until his opponent is starting to swing the heavy mace at his unprotected chest.

Then he drops, left hand braced for support as he pivots low on his peg leg and sticks out his good foot. With that narrow eye slit, Spiderclaw should lose sight of him for a moment.

He grunts as their boots meet, but it has the desired effect: the bigger man goes flying, arms outstretched.

Hiccup swings smoothly around and leaps forward to plant Inferno against his neck before he can recover, but a horn is already sounding: the mace's own momentum ripped it out of his hand.

There are exclamations of incredulity from the crowd, and Hiccup can see his Dad and Nils roaring with laughter and slapping each other on the back.

Spiderclaw sits up and pulls off his helmet, muttering oaths and looking baffled.

Hiccup smiles sheepishly and he leans over to offer the bigger man a hand up. "Peg legs can be handy when you need to pivot," he explains.

Spiderclaw shakes his head, still finding it hard to believe that the whole thing is over. But the audience is abuzz with amusement, and he inhales and half smiles.

"Thor take it, I guess they are. And here I thought I was ready for anything."

He's still shaking his head, but he accepts the hand up.

Hiccup raises his sword in salute once Spiderclaw is back on his feet, and the crowd whoops with approval. Everybody from Berk is jumping and shouting, fists raised.

He can't help grinning.

* * *

The next few hours pass in a blur of free ale for their friends, ecstatic congratulations and tripping imitations, several gruesome injuries in the ring and the dull roar of crowd noise. Astrid insists on watching all the bouts even though the crowd has been thinning as the day wears on. She points out the opponents who fight with special skill or brutality.

Unsurprisingly, the ones with titles always fall in that category- one doesn't win renown in battle or get to the Winner's Circle purely by chance. The way Orcan almost casually hooks aside his opponent's shield and then knocks him onto his back with a thrust to the chest is chilling- he's only seen that kind of power in older Vikings like his dad. If there had been a tip to that poleaxe, the man would have died instantly- as is; the healers carting him out look grim.

But he knows how determined Astrid is to get a title herself, and she's only going against some unproven guy from Bashem in the afternoon. Hiccup thinks he's being admirably calm when he walks her to the holding area and kisses her good luck before joining his dad and hers in the Chief's section.

Her dad isn't the first to get a special invite- almost every Chief has extended privileges to proud (and occasionally distraught) parents during their child's match. But if there's anything Hiccup has confidence in, it's Astrid's ability to kick ass, and he almost laughs when he hears her opponent jeering over being in the ring with "some tiny dragon loving girl".

She doesn't disappoint: Astrid dispatches him quickly, dodging the swipes of his sword and shield with seeming effortlessness before hooking her axe under his wrist and sending his sword flying.

His infuriated attempt to bludgeon her with the shield after the horn blares is met with a disgusted sneer and her axe. The force sends it into his face and he reels back, bleeding copiously from a split lip and broken nose.

"That's my girl," her Dad gasps proudly, relaxing his white knuckled grip on the cage. He's been caught between worry and pride the whole trip, and they'd argued every time she'd gotten training injuries during the winter- Hiccup had always gotten an earful about it the next day.

"Reflexes of a Nadder. She'll be the crowd's darling now," agrees Stoick, placing a reassuring hand on his back.

The judges converge hastily and lead the loser out, accompanied by boos from the crowd for the lack of sportsmanship. But they quickly change to cheers when Astrid lifts her axe and beams.

They raise their fists and add to the noise- it's been a good day for Hooligans.

But Hiccup can't help feeling a sense of unease when he catches a glimpse of the intense way Orcan is looking at her.

* * *

He's relieved when Astrid elects not to watch the few matches left that day- he's been aching to hit the markets and get something proper to eat. She'd insisted on eating lightly all day so that they wouldn't be lethargic or nauseous while fighting, and it's been hard to walk by all the stands with tantalizing smells.

They go with Shivering Shores chowder first, creamy and savoury and chock full of clams and mussels. Thinking of Nils, he gets them hot apple pie from the next stand to follow. They both eat enthusiastically, Astrid especially.

"This is the best thing I've ever tasted," she groans, licking sticky filling off her fingers, and Hiccup has to laugh.

"You said that about the chowder!"

"Well, I've changed my mind," she says airily, swiping a bit of apple out of his piece.

He grins. "It's probably the spice they use- it's called cinnamon. We can try to find some in the market to bring back to Berk."

She nods and wipes her mouth, looking curiously at the other stands as he finishes eating. "Wouldn't mind changing my mind again. Recommend anything else?"

He smiles and reaches for her hand. It's a nice change of pace from their usual dates, the violence earlier that day notwithstanding. "Why don't we take a look?"

It's fun trying out different foods- roasted nuts, fried dough, skewers of chicken dipped in delectable sauce. Astrid wants to try everything and there are a couple things he's never seen before, despite having come along with his Dad on trips before.

It's embarrassing when they get recognized though. Astrid gets congratulations on her victory and good luck wishes, but Hiccup's tripping stunt has made him rather infamous and Vikings from all over hoot with laughter, slap him on the back and re-enact the bout with much exaggerated wheeling of arms.

One of the things he'd loved about trips to Shivering Shores was the relative anonymity, and Hiccup belatedly wishes they'd scrubbed the face paint off.

So he winces when they hear their names called.

"Astrid? Hiccup!"

He blinks with surprise and grins when they look back though. "Hi! Wow, we didn't expect to see you here."

Astrid smiles delightedly when she turns too. It's such a pleasant surprise to see a familiar face in this sea of strangers.

Heather's leaning out of the squid-on-a-stick stand and waving. She's prettier than ever, even with the kerchief over her hair and the sauce-splattered apron.

"Oh, we're here every Tournament. We always try to hit the big events around the Archipelago- lots of people needing to eat," she says, smiling widely. Her brows furrow as she takes in the face paint and armor. "You guys were contestants?"

Hiccup smiles and raises his eyebrows wryly. "Yeaaah, we made it to the next round, actually."

She smiles with surprise. "Well- congratulations. May Thor favor you both tomorrow." She glances down at their linked hands and raises her eyebrows. "What happens if you end up in a bout against each other?"

Hiccup shrugs a shoulder. "Ahhh, she'll kick my ass in front of the entire Viking nation, I guess."

Astrid laughs, flushing. "Hiccup! You're pretty good with a sword now."

He tilts his head. "Not against you with an axe."

She frowns. He's right. She'd been focused on his swordsmanship and reflexes, not expecting him to face actual combat. "We need to work on that. Won't have time when we're back but maybe next winter…"

Hiccup sighs, smiling with mild irony. "Guess I need to survive the next round."

"Well, I hope you do," Heather says. She looks at Astrid hastily, not wanting to step in it like before. There's no possessive irritation in her eyes but she clarifies anyway. "I mean, both of you- we owe you big time. Say- you want to try some squid? It's from Southron waters- super tender."

They're both skeptical about eating anything with tentacles but she has a small basket of samples and they both have to admit that it's good- savoury and chewy like jerky, but less stuck-between-your-teeth stringy.

"You can have a couple sticks for free if you like- we wouldn't even have our boat back if not for you," she says, and they agree to one last snack.

"So this is what your family does? Must be exciting going to so many new places," Astrid says, studying the stand as Heather grills the squid quickly.

"Yes. We tend to stay south ever since the Outcast incident. More competition but more civilization, so…" she shrugs. Her eyes widen and she quickly amends her statement. "Not that Berk is uncivilized."

Hiccup and Astrid both grin. "Yes, it is," they proclaim proudly, and she has to laugh with them.

She gives them a few tips over which vendors to avoid and which are reputable before a customer comes up, and they wave and move on to the markets. There are fascinating goods from all corners of the world, and Hiccup happily bargains for lead, glassmaking sand and a Southron device called a compass that always points north- perfect for exploring.

Astrid just browses despite the fullcloth and fish credits in her bag.

"Aren't you going to buy anything?" Hiccup asks, perplexed.

She smiles and shrugs. "I'm making a list. I can come back once I decide what I want most."

They stop by the Hooligan stalls too: Fishlegs is dutifully taking his shift selling paper and card and Ruff is making wily bargains for their yarn and woven fullcloth. Tuff is sleeping off all the free ale on the floor of the stall.

Gobber is doing slow trade in Gronkle iron weapons, and the emergency torches and Zippleback firecrackers are even harder to sell.

"It's bizarre! What sort of Viking children don't like explosives?" he fumes.

Hiccup frowns. That _is_ bizarre. "Maybe they need a demonstration?"

Gobber gives him a disgusted look. "And waste perfectly sellable goods? Don't see the Jorgensons throwing away their fish do you?"

"Well, that's not what I mean-"

"What's next? You'll be giving away daggers just to get them out the door? Aw, get out of here and leave the selling to the proper adults. Go on," Gobber says, shooing them away from the booth.

They hustle along, but Hiccup's brow furrows. Not much they can do to change people's minds about their dragons when they aren't even allowed to come. But surely the prejudice against dragon products can be tempered somehow. All they need is some kind of chance…

* * *

They check the roster first thing the next morning. There are only ten matches, and the winners not only earn titles and a seat of honor at the evening feast, they proceed to the prize rounds on the third day.

Astrid is even tenser than usual- this is all she wants. To be disqualified would be the ultimate disappointment, and she sighs with relief when she sees that she's up against an untitled Viking from the Uglithugs. She has a vague recollection of his bout being won by brute force rather than skill, which is very encouraging. She scans the list for Hiccup's name and smiles to see that he's also lucked out. He's up against that Meathead axe guy from the first match, and he can probably dodge and disarm if he stays focused- that tripping trick won't work a second time.

She wishes she'd done some training with him on fending off other types of weapons. Hindsight is always so annoying clear. But he's got Inferno, and well- if anyone can leverage an advantage out of that sword of his, her bet would be on Hiccup.

The bookies have other ideas though- they're out in full force, hanging out by the rosters. She pretends to study the matches while one gives his spiel to a potential better. Apparently she has decent odds of making it through but Hiccup has been given very slim chances.

Well, anybody judging skill alone would have arrived at the same conclusion.

Hiccup is listening with mild bemusement too. He's used to being underestimated, and this is not the only time he's counted on it. "Well, I guess I'm glad it's the axe guy. I think I remember yours too."

"See? Aren't you glad we watched? Come on- let's get something to eat."

She's relieved there won't be such a long wait until her match this time. The nerves are making her jumpy and she just wants to get it over with.

Giving Hiccup tips on what to watch for seems redundant but she does it anyway during lulls in the fighting- after all, an axe isn't just deadly for its cleaving power, it can be used strategically as well- tripping, swatting, bludgeoning. The only thing that won't happen in the Tournament is getting one hurled at you- automatic disqualification for losing a weapon, even if you take out your opponent.

They're both more confident of his success when she kisses him at the door of the holding area, and the judge who greets him actually strikes up a conversation as they wait.

"Quite a Loki's Jest you pulled yesterday."

Hiccup smiles and shrugs. "Seemed the right move against a Viking wearing a helm like that."

The judge purses his lips and nods. "Aye. Good against archers but not many of those in Tournament."

The wait is longer- the clash of metal and wood and grunts of effort continue for several minutes. But soon enough the horn blares and a few minutes later Hiccup is walking to the mark again.

"Not going to trip me, I warn ya," Poxxus calls. His face is painted with a grinning skull- appropriate for family colors of black and white.

Hiccup nods. "Hadn't planned to." He already knows that he'll be dodging hacks to the head and shield thrusts, and trying to get through his guard.

The horn blares and Poxxus approaches slowly.

Hiccup paces slowly to the left. From the confused expression on his face, Poxxus is obviously used to sparring against someone with a shield on the opposite arm, and Hiccup silently thanks Astrid for insisting he learn to fight with both arms.

He doesn't try to parry the axe, just dodging the first few strikes to gauge his reach and recovery times. Astrid's trained him to be fast, and Hiccup strikes decisively as soon as there's a decent opening, bringing his sword down on a leather wrist guard with a crack.

Poxxus shouts but doesn't drop the weapon, and Hiccup dances back when he swings his shield defensively, feeling confidence pump along with adrenaline. He might not have the Viking knack of cracking bones with a single blow, but he's just gained a decisive advantage. The pained way Poxxus is holding the axe and angling his body behind the shield is telling.

He's slower when he swings at Hiccup again, but he tries to bludgeon him with the bottom edge of his shield as well to make up for it.

Hiccup easily skips back out of range before jumping forward and striking at the inside of his wrist.

The axe tumbles out of numb fingers when he connects this time, and the horn sounds.

His dad's proud shouts are audible even with the roar of the crowd, but Hiccup searches the stands for Astrid and grins and raises his sword for her when he sees her whooping proudly next to their friends.

He couldn't have earned this victory without her.


End file.
